Thriving
by PrudencePiperHalliwell
Summary: Ever since losing his twin, George has isolated himself from his friends and family. Hermione is the only one who refuses to walk on egg shells around him any longer. With her help, perhaps he will be able to slowly recover and find happiness again.
1. Chapter 1

It had been eight months since he lost his partner in crime, or approximately 5,840 hours give or take an hour or two. Whenever he calculated the months into smaller units of time such as days, hours, or even seconds, it overwhelmed him how large the number was. One hour without his twin was bearable now, but looking at how many hours in total he had been without Fred was unbearable. That large of a number made his chest heave and made it difficult for him to breathe normally. George Weasley was merely existing nowadays. He wasn't thriving or even truly living, but he was existing and going through the motions of everyday.

Eight months ago George had lost his soul mate. It was hard to explain to an outsider exactly what he lost that day in the final battle. Everyone had experienced loss whether it be a loved one or someone they had known. The Browns experienced the loss of their daughter, Lavender. Teddy Lupin experienced the loss of both of his parents, Remus and Tonks, deeming him an orphan as a mere baby. The entire Weasley family lost their beloved Frederic Weasley. Molly and Arthur lost a son, Charlie, Bill, Percy, Ron, and Ginny lost a brother, but George lost his twin.

Growing up, Molly had referred to them as one unit, as one wizard even, "the twins". One was never without the other. Their minds were scarily similar, almost telepathic, to the extent that they knew what the other was thinking with merely a look. The two had been partners in crime growing up, roommates, best friends, and business partners in their successful joke shop. The absence in his life could not be described with mere words when Fred died in the war. George lost his shadow, his muse, his best friend. George was Fred's soul mate in every meaning of the word (not romantically of course).

Initially, it didn't hit him. He went through the weeks following the war without any emotion, almost feeling numb. He attended his own twin's funeral and did not even cry, he was shut down completely. He felt as it he were in a dream, as if none of this could possibly be real. He attended other funerals for other victims in the war. He wore black robes as was expected, stood there quietly, and listened as his peers professed their love and sorrow for those lost in the war. It was not until all was calm and quiet, almost normal again, that it hit him.

The funerals had come to an end, Hogwarts was slowly being cleaned and repaired by volunteers and students, and everyone was returning back to work. George found himself home one day at the Burrow approximately three weeks after Fred had died. He was sitting in their old bedroom with the door closed, sitting at the edge of his bed staring into space. He tended to do that a lot recently - stare into space and think of literally nothing. His mind was blank - he was neither here nor there. A fleeting thought crossed his mind regarding a conversation he had with Fred and Lee Jordan when they had been broadcasting their radio station, hoping to reach out to the Golden Trio. They had been discussing the possibility of Harry, Hermione, and Ron not coming home.

The three of them had disappeared after Bill and Fleur's wedding, much to the dismay of Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. Molly would sit in the living room and stare at the clock, hoping, silently praying that Ron's hand would move to "home". Dishes went undone, meals went uncooked, and laundry went unwashed during that time. Arthur, Bill, Charlie, Fred, George, and Ginny had silently stepped up while Molly sat staring at the clock for hours on end. Molly never asked how all the chores had been done, nor did they ever tell her how much they had stepped in.

It was Fred who had asked, "What happens if Ron doesn't come back?" George and Lee had just stared back, neither wanting to answer that question. "Ron has Hermione to protect him, she could outsmart any attacker," Lee offered in a pathetic attempt to both answer Fred's question as well as dodge the possibility of Ron never coming home again. In that moment,

George hadn't offered any insight or commentary as he had been thinking the same thing. He just couldn't ask the question aloud. He was worried not only for his younger brother, but for his younger brother's best friends. He nodded, "Hermione will wind up saving the day," he had mumbled in response. George did not like thinking of the different outcomes that the war could have.

Back in his quiet room in the Burrow, George was remembering that exact conversation. He could remember every word, every feeling, every thought that passed through his mind. "We were so worried about Ron not coming home, I never thought you would be the one not coming home," he mumbled. He looked to his right at Fred's empty bed. His heart felt like it was in the back of his throat as he finally acknowledged the empty bed. He had never thought he would have to live without Fred. The two had future plans, they had business plans, and general plans. George's plans always included Fred and Fred's plans always included George.

It was in that room three weeks after Fred died that George's world finally stopped. The joke shop remained closed for several months, George did not shower for days at a time, and he did not speak unless directly spoken to. He became a shell of the person he once was. Molly began leaving food outside of his door instead of pestering him to come down, Arthur began leaving muggle self-help book outside of his room every evening when he came home from work. Each brother, plus Ginny, would leave different items outside of George's locked door. No sound came from the bedroom, nor did they ever see George actually open the door to retrieve the books. Miraculously though, Molly would find empty dinner plates outside of his room the morning after. Arthur would find the pile of books gone the following morning as well. The items never stayed outside of his door, but no one actually witnessed George opening the door to reach the items.

Days turned into weeks which turned into months. It was through the items that the Weasleys left outside of George's door that George survived. Once a week he would apparate himself into the bathroom to shower, then apparate himself back into the room. No one dared to knock on the door, or to force interaction with him. "When he is ready," Molly would say at every meal when George would not join them. "He needs time to heal on his own," she would respond whenever someone asked how George was doing.

It was Hermione Granger who refused to walk around egg shells when George was involved. She had lost both parents during the war and had taken several months to herself, leaving the wizarding world behind to "seek her inner healing" as Ron and Harry put it. When she returned, she was invited back with open arms. When she asked where George was her first evening back at the Burrow after months, Molly gave her typical answer of, "He needs time to heal on his own, when he is ready he will join us." Hermione raised an eyebrow, "It's been almost eight months, Molly," she said slowly.

Molly nodded, "He needs time," she repeated. Hermione didn't press the matter any further at dinner. When dinner was over, Hermione quietly disappeared up the stairs. She saw the untouched plate of food Molly had brought up for George sitting outside his bedroom door. There was also a book entitled "How to be Happy Again," next to the plate of food. Hermione rolled her eyes and knocked rather loudly at the door.

From inside the room, George froze. He had been reading one of the many books his dad left daily outside his door. No one had knocked in the past few months, since he closed the door to lock the world out. It was silent for several seconds, maybe he was hearing things. The second knock made him stand up and walk towards the door. Maybe it was his mother finally demanding that he join them for dinner, maybe it would be Ginny wanting to personally hand

him her wedding invitation. He reached for the knob before deciding that he did not want to be bothered. He locked himself in his room for a reason and when he wanted to join the land of the living that's when he would do so. Turning away from the door, he returned back to his seat and glanced back at the book.

The knocking ceased and light footsteps retreated from his bedroom door. He let out a deep breath that he hadn't realized he had been holding in. Whoever it was wasn't going to press the matter any further for which he was relieved for. He wasn't ready to talk to others yet and to deal with their pitying eyes.

He settled back into his seat, rereading the same sentence he had been trying to dissect before the knock had disturbed him.

BAM!

He jolted out of his seat in shock as the door swung open with a loud bang, a force he hadn't thought capable of someone in his family. There, standing in the doorway with her wild curls and narrow brown eyes was Hermione Granger, wand ready, eyes scanning the room. Her deep brown eyes finally settled on him. He expected to see pity and sympathy, but her eyes were harsh with anger and annoyance. For once in his life, George was at a loss of words.


	2. Chapter 2

Hermione Granger was known as many things - the brains of the Golden Trio, a know it all, the brightest witch of her age, amongst many other titles she had been deemed worthy of. The brightest witch of her age was currently standing in the doorway of Mr. George Weasley who was staring at her as if she had gone mad. "Blimey, Hermione, what in Merlin's beard are you doing," he roared, eyes widened in shock at her sudden entrance. Granted, she hadn't even given him forewarning of her had been knocking on his door. For all he knew, it could have been his mother with the dinner plate or his father with those silly self-help Muggle books. Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out.

She had devised this plan at dinner after Molly had shrugged off her questions regarding George. It didn't take a rocket scientist to know that Molly Weasley was hurting - both from the loss of her son and the withdrawal from his twin. George had isolated himself from his entire family for almost a year now. Hermione at first had understood when Ginny, Ron, and Harry described the daily situation at the Burrow in their letters to her. She had been more than understanding considering she was doing the exact same thing. Rather than locking herself in a bedroom, she chose to run from her reality. The difference though was that Hermione had come back, ready to enter the wizarding world again with the surrogate family she had grown up with.

She had been traveling across Muggle Europe, briefly making a stop in the States for a brief study on comparing and contrasting the Muggle worlds between the two continents of Europe and North America. She had remained in contact with those closest to her via weekly letters, being careful to avoid any questions that asked of her exact whereabouts. She would tell them of her adventures from the week prior, worried that they would try to intervene with her traveling if she told them her exact whereabouts that week.

Hermione had sent George one owl - only one that asked if he wanted to correspond via letters while she was traveling. She had taken his silence to mean that he was either not receiving letters, or was not interested in continuing any correspondence with her for the time being. At first, she had been hurt by his lack of a response but on some level she understood. George and Hermione's relationship had been in the grey area since her fourth year during their Yule Ball.

She had always imagined that Ron Weasley would be her first kiss. She had silently hoped that he would ask to escort her to the Yule Ball. Viktor Krum beat him to the punch and while she only viewed him as a fellow intellect interested in similar areas of academia as her, she agreed to his invitation to the dance. A part of her took joy in seeing Ron's dumbfounded look when she walked into the room on the arm of Viktor Krum. She had no expectations of how the evening would turn out, but she knew that she wanted Ron to get off his bum instead of scowling the entire time to ask her to dance. As per usual, Ron fell short of her hopes and left her in a heap of tulle and tears at the bottom of the stairs. It was George Weasley who had found her wailing, throwing her pointy shoes down the stairs.

At first he had simply been comforting her, reassuring her how daft his younger brother was. One moment she was crying in his shoulder cursing the Weasley name and the next he was pressing his lips against her own, becoming her first official kiss. She had not planned on it, nor did she ever breathe a word of it to anyone else but George Weasley was her first kiss. The two of them never spoke about the kiss to each other, nor anyone else. It was almost like they had an unspoken rule to not mention the kiss.

After that, their relationship had gone from her being his little brother's best friend, to her being his acquaintance. At first, they would smile and nod towards each other, occasionally exchanging simple pleasantries. Hermione would continue to lecture the twins about their obscene practice of testing their products on first years. George would smile at her with a twinkle in his eye and listen while she lectured while his twin would roll his eyes and moan, "Granger, we're paying them!" Their relationship graduated from acquaintances to friends when George walked in on Hermione hysterically crying when she discovered Ron was dating Lavender Brown in her sixth year. She had been sniffling, frantically trying to wipe her tears away in the middle of Diagon Alley when he discovered her.

"What could possibly have the infamous Granger sniffling and tearing about," he had asked teasingly, approaching her from behind. It was almost as if she recognized his voice before seeing her as her shoulders relaxed at the sound of a familiar voice.

"Your daft thickheaded brother," she managed to let out, snot beginning to run from her nose from all of her sniffling.

"Oh Hermione, I thought we had already discussed how much of a blundering idiot he is," George whispered, stepping closer. He reached out to brush a strand of her hair behind her ear. "I think you should begin to look elsewhere for the attention you crave. My brother, I love him dearly, but he wasn't the one to get the brains of the loot. I believe that would be me actually, plus I'm the better looking Weasley out of all of them! I think it's safe to say I took all of the good genes and little icky Ronniekins with whatever was left over," he had teased, smiling at her, his eyes searching hers to see if he was helping her feel better. She managed a small chuckle and nodded, not being able to say a word. He had looked like he was going to kiss her in that moment. She would have welcomed it, but he gave her arm a squeeze and walked away.

That was the end of their alone time. After that, the war picked up and life went from normalcy at Hogwarts to frantically fighting for their lives. The last time Hermione had seen George was at her parents' funeral. It had been a few days following Fred's funeral and she was shocked to see him there. He was dressed in the same black robes he had worn to all the others. He looked like George, but he stared in front of him the entire time, never catching her eye. He did not approach her as his family had at the end of the ceremony to offer their condolences and support. George had stayed back, refusing to speak to anyone. When his family was done offering their apologies and kisses, he apparated back to the Burrow where he remained in isolation for the next eight months.

Now, Hermione was standing in his doorway, wand ready in case he tried to hex her out of there. Her plan had been to try to coerce him out of his room. She had not anticipated having to practically blow the door open just to get a sight of him. "What am I doing, George Weasley," she started, having found her voice in her moment of silence. "What are you doing?"

He blinked at her, gesturing towards his desk, "You may find this hard to believe but I was _trying_ to read before you went and bloody well blew my door off the hinges!"

She rolled her eyes at him, waving her hand as if to dismiss his comment. "I don't mean about the book, I mean what are you doing locked in your room? This is exactly where you were when I left almost eight months ago now! Your mother is still leaving food outside of your door? When is the last time you've even showered," she asked incredulously. She almost expected to sense a foul odor from him, but was pleasantly surprised that he seemed to have decent hygiene. "I mean you don't look as bad as I was expecting, but why are you still barricaded in your room?" She placed her hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes at him sternly, a look she had given his younger brother frequently but rarely him.

He sighed, running his hand through his shaggy red hair. He had attempted to give himself a haircut at least once a month, but that had never been his forte. He was sure he looked like a younger, red haired version of Sirius Black when they had first found him. "I shower, thank you very much. Every other day," he lied, not wanting to admit that he showered only once a week. "I just want to be left alone. With that, I would appreciate it if you would get out of my room now and fix the damn door, Hermione," he said harshly, pointing at the door now hanging off of the wall. "It's bad enough I didn't have a door the first few years of my life!" Molly had refused to place a door on the twins' room when they were younger for fear of what they would do if she couldn't hear or see them directly.

"No," she responded defiantly. "I haven't seen you in eight months, you never even answered my owl. Do you even realize how hurt your family is? How upset your mother is? She waits for you every meal to come down, only to be disappointed when you don't." She was searching his face for any signs of weakness or regret.

The comment about his mother hit home and he winced. The thought had crossed his mind that this must be hurting his mother that he refused to even speak to her. "I look too much like Fred, she'd be happier if she didn't have a constant reminder," he said in a monotone voice. He had a lot of time to decipher what everyone's reactions would be when he eventually did emerge. Part of the reason as to why he let his hair grow so long was to distinguish the difference between himself and his twin. He didn't want to look in the mirror and see the face of his dead twin staring back at him.

Hermione wasn't having it though. "That's absurd and you know she wants to see you." She crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow at him. He had completely avoided answering the part about his ignoring her owl.

"It wasn't anything personal," he mumbled, "I didn't respond to anyone. I didn't want to speak to anyone, not even my mom." He felt guilty for not responding to her letter. He had intended to at first. He left it on his desk and stared at it for days, trying to figure out exactly what to say. He wanted to write to her, but he didn't know what to say without feeling like a damn fool. He didn't want speak about Fred, he didn't know if she wanted to speak about her parents, they hadn't mentioned their kiss or almost kiss for years. What could he write her? 'How's the weather over there wherever you are? Weather is dark and gloomy in my room for the hundredth day in a row.' "I'm sorry I didn't respond," he offered a weak attempt at an apology.

He looked her up and down for a moment - she looked good. He had heard through the wall at mealtimes what Hermione had been up to. The walls at the Burrow were very thin, so even though he had not been present at meals, he heard every word that was said. Hermione had decided to travel after she had lost her parents and wanted to do it alone. His brother, Ron, had taken it the hardest. Ron and Hermione's relationship had always been undefined which is why he had kept his distance from her. He hadn't meant to kiss her that night in her fourth year at the Yule Ball, but she had been upset. Crying women were George's weakness, he didn't know how to respond to them. She had looked so pretty and sad, he had been drawn to her lips. One thing led to another and she was one of his few kisses at Hogwarts. Fred had always been the ladies' man, George had been the shy one in that department.

After that kiss, George had tried to steer clear of her. It was a known fact that Ron and Hermione had a thing for each other. But if she had feelings for Ron, why did she kiss him back? The two of them had never spoken about that kiss again, but had exchanged small talk. Two years later he found her again in a heaping mess crying over his blundering idiot of a brother and his girlfriend. Ron was such an idiot and again, George's weakness was crying women. He attempted to comfort her and then she looked up at him with those same sad, wanting eyes that she had at the Yule Ball. Her hair had felt so soft and her cheek fit perfectly into the palm of his hand. He had stopped himself then, it was one of the most difficult things he had ever had to do, but he walked away after he got her to smile. She wasn't his and technically she wasn't his brother's, but he didn't know what would happen in the future.

He thought she was braver than him for being able to channel her loss and anger into something positive. She was traveling, searching for something that maybe she herself didn't even know. He wondered when she would come back, wanted to reach out to her, but didn't know where she was or if she even wanted to hear from him. It had been months since she sent her letter and he had not responded. The question of what if was less painful than her own radio silence would have been if he had reached out months later.

She stood there silently, not sure how to respond to his apology. He looked genuinely sorry for not having responded to her. "George, will you come down with me," she said, nodding towards the door. "There's a lot of leftovers we could -"

"Get out."

He interrupted her with a harsh voice. He had gone from feeling genuinely apologetic to angry. "Get out of my room," he demanded. How dare she return after all these months and barge into his room and start demanding things. She hadn't been here for months, she didn't know what he was feeling or what he had been through. All she knew was what his family had told her through letters. She could have tried to reach out to him multiple times, she didn't need a reply to continue sending her letters. She sent letters to everyone else, but him. When she didn't move," he raised his voice, "GET OUT BEFORE I THROW YOU OUT," he ordered, reaching for his wand that had been resting untouched on the desk.

Her eyes widened as he held his wand threateningly at her. She glared daggers at him, "Fine." Wordlessly, she stormed out of the room and slammed the door back on its hinges with the lock with a wave of her own wand. She stared on the other side of the door, her chest heaving with every deep breath she took. Her heart was beating so loudly, she heard it in her own ears. On the other side of the door, George stared at the now closed door. He dropped his wand on the floor and took a step towards the closed door. He felt absolutely horrible. He had raised his wand at Hermione and threatened her, something he had never done before. "I'm so sorry," he mumbled so softly that he wasn't even sure if he said it to himself or aloud.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Thank you so much for all of the reviews, it means a lot! It has been a few years since I've dabbled in fanfiction, so I apologize if there are a few inconsistencies. I'm trying to keep the pace steady without rushing the plot, that was always a flaw of mine - I get so excited with my ideas that I rush through them. I'm trying to update a chapter a day, but I'm happy with the progress thus and thank you so much for all the feedback! I have a few ideas on how I want the story to play out, but I'm open to suggestions/ideas!

Hermione Granger was _not_ a quitter. She viewed this as a mere setback after much calculation regarding her failed attempt at retrieving George from his room. At first, she had been too stunned to speak, angry even at his absurd behavior towards her. If anyone else in the Burrow had heard her spat with George, no one said anything. "I'm going to get going," she had informed Molly when she reappeared in the kitchen from upstairs. "Lots of unpacking and settling in to do," she mumbled an excuse as she hugged Molly, thanking her for the breakfast and hospitality. Molly hugged her harder than usual and patted her on the back, blinking away tears. She turned towards the sink and started scrubbing the pile of dishes from her many children.

Hermione apparated back to her flat before any of the other Weasleys could question her on why she was leaving so soon. While she was away traveling, Hermione had put the down payment on a flat not too far from Hogsmeade. She had hired an interior designer to aid her in decorating the inside. Whenever she purchased a new piece of furniture, she would send it to the designer who would then rearrange the entire apartment to be able to fit the new piece in. Her interior designer was none other than Neville Longbottom who always had a knack for arranging things just so. She had refrained from telling her friends of her flat and her partnership with Neville in decorating the apartment as she had wanted her privacy. She did not want her friends to have access just yet to pop in and out whenever they pleased. In due time, she told herself, she would share the information with them. She still needed time to herself to settle in and analyze what it meant to be back in the London wizarding community.

Waving her wand, she continued the unpacking she had started before she left for breakfast at the Burrow. As she was waving her wand, she let her mind wander. George had never spoken so aggressively towards her, she had always thought of him as a gentle, intimate person. Then again, how much did she really know about him other than their few conversations and few encounters. She had not had any contact with him for over eight months, perhaps he was a different person than she had kissed back at Hogwarts. She collapsed on her couch, suddenly exhausted from the emotional ordeal she had experienced in her morning at the Burrow.

Back at the Burrow, Molly was furiously scrubbing the dishes thinking about what she had heard transpire just upstairs. She knew that Hermione would be the one to storm upstairs and drag George downstairs by his one good ear if she had to. She loved Hermione as a daughter and had missed her terribly, but she would be lying if she said she hadn't been hoping Hermione would come and force George to join them. She had whipped Ron and Harry into shape, she had faith that she would have a similar impact on her older son, the sole remaining twin. She had not expected him to scream at her, demanding that she leave his room or else he would hex her. The entire Burrow had heard that last bit. They silently exchanged glances, no one sure exactly how to respond to what they had just heard. Molly understood Hermione needing to get out of there as fast as she could.

"I'm not giving him a plate of food anymore," Molly announced to Ginny who was only one who had come into the kitchen to help her mother clean up. "If he's hungry, he can come get the food himself," she decided. Ginny knew better than to verbally comment on what her mother had said, so she silently nodded in agreement. Molly had been silently enabling George and encouraging him to continue his isolation by making it too easy for him. It was about time that she give her son the tough love she was known for.

Lunch came too soon for Molly as she was nervous for her decision to not give George a plate of food. She went about her usual business, preparing the food for the Weasley clan. She took a seat at the head of the table and began to take a bite of a roll. The others seated at the table stared incredulously at their mother, the matriarch of their family, as she had always personally bought up a plate of food to George before anyone else ate, especially herself. Ron, of course, would be the only one oblivious enough to comment on it. "What about George's plate of food?" Harry and Ginny simultaneously whipped their heads towards Ron, glaring daggers at him. Ginny attempted to kick Ron under the table but accidentally kicked Arthur instead. He groaned and raised an eyebrow at Ginny, but didn't say anything out loud. Molly ignored Ron's comment and asked him to pass the butter for her roll.

"It was lovely seeing Hermione, I do hope she comes around more often now that she's local again," Arthur offered conversation to which Molly smiled at him, thankful for her husband. And just like that, Ron's comment went ignored and the Weasleys began their usual round of conversation minus George.

Upstairs, George's stomach growled and he groaned. Where was his mother with his lunch? He knew the routine by now - he would hear footsteps coming up the stairs and a clink of the plate as she set it down at his door. She would take a deep breath or two and then proceed back down the stairs to join the rest of the family. He would wait approximately three minutes just to make sure she was gone before slowly opening the door and sliding the plate into his room. He would then lock the door and proceed to eat his food at his desk. He would put a roll on the side for a late afternoon snack before dinner and pop the empty plate back outside of his door. When she bought him dinner, she would exchange the empty plate for a plate full of dinner food. But today she was late with his food.

His stomach's growling only got louder to the point where he began thinking that his mother had been eaten by a lizard. That must be what had happened - she would never willingly let her child starve. What could he do? He could walk downstairs and take his own plate of food but that would mean interacting with his family. He could wait until dinner in a few hours to see if she bought him dinner, but that meant starving for a few more hours. He could wait until it was quiet and sneak downstairs to get food to avoid running into them. That sounded like the best option.

He waited thirty seven minutes precisely before he broke. He couldn't take it anymore, he was drooling at the thought of what could have been in his mouth half an hour ago. He opened the door just to make sure there was not a plate of food waiting for him. Disappointed at the absence of food and his typical self-help book from his father, he decided it was time to venture downstairs to investigate. Deciding that apparating would be easier than trying to descend the stairs without making a sound, he quickly apparated into the kitchen.

Immediately, he regretted his decision as the 'pop' from his entrance caused his mother to screech, dropping the plate she was holding onto Ginny's foot. Ginny howled in pain to which Harry, who had been trying to sneak another roll behind Ginny's back winced at her high pitched squeal. Her howl sent Arthur and Ron running into the kitchen to see what all the fuss was about. And just like that George found himself the center of attention with most of his family there staring at him in shock. "George!" Ron exclaimed. "Mom finally starved you out of your room," began before his sister whacked him in the back of the head with the palm of her hand. "OW, bloody hell Gin," he grumbled, rubbing the back of his head in pain. "What was that for," he demanded.

George nodded towards his mother, "I just wanted a plate of food," he offered sheepishly. "I'm working on something, want to get back to it," he lied. Maybe if his mother thought he had been working on things for the joke shop, she would go back to leaving him food outside of his door. Ginny rolled her eyes at his comment, "We all know what it sounds like when you're working on your experiments with Fr-" she stopped speaking before she said his name. She hadn't even realized that she almost said Fred. Everyone looked from Ginny back to George who's eyes darkened at the name of his twin. "Yes well it's just me working on them," he grumbled, beginning to throw food on a plate to quickly get out of there. He would apparate downstairs in the middle of the night to avoid this if she wouldn't leave him food. He would go flat searching if she refused to feed him, there were ways around this. His mind soared as he flicked his wand and returned to his safe haven with food.

"Ginny!" She rolled her eyes, "At least he came out of his room, that's the first time any of us have actually physically seen him in months. It's a start," to which they all nodded in agreement. "He just needs time," Harry offered Molly who looked as if she were about to cry. "He's had enough time," Arthur responded for his wife who did not seem able to speak. "He needs to start joining the family again. Fred wouldn't want this," Ginny commented. Ginny grabbed a bit of parchment and a quill when a sudden idea came into her head. Hermione had to be the answer. For eight months George wouldn't even come out of his room. Within hours, Hermione had barged her way in and gotten him to speak followed by him actually showing his face in their kitchen. Granted, he had been hoping to avoid them, but he had actually exited his room while they were all conscious.

Ginny wrote a short, sweet note to Hermione explaining what had happened. Perhaps Hermione was the key to pushing George's buttons to get him to the point of socialization. It was worth a shot. Ginny was also not an idiot - she had seen the way her brother looked at Hermione whenever she was over. His eyes had followed her every move, his eyes saddened whenever Ron would sit next to her or speak with her. She had kept silent for a long time, trying to figure out what the look George had on his face whenever Hermione was around. When she started dating Harry, she recognized the look on her brother's face because it was the look she had on her face whenever Harry was around - longing. She was unsure if Hermione was aware of the looks that George would give her and she wasn't sure if Hermione had given George the same looks. But one thing was for certain - Hermione was back and she was having an impact on George.


End file.
